Wednesday, 15 May 2013

There are some notable events which happen year on year and are not related to birthdays and family celebrations. One of these is the Acorn Bike Ride with which I have a love-hate relationship. Acorn is my charity of choice and I've been involved since the very beginning thirteen years ago when we started raising money for people with dementia and their carers locally, and research into scleroderma at Leeds General Infirmary. One of our big annual events is our 100k (62 miles) sponsored bike ride which takes place each May.

The Acorn 100k Bike Ride is now in its seventh year and I've written about it before (My Big, Fat Biking Blog) and usually I come at this event unprepared, unready and unfit. This year was going to be different.

Firstly, having ridden on begged and borrowed bikes in previous years, this year I purchased a proper road bike. Doing the bike ride on a cycle with big, bobbly tyres and a frame that weighs a ton is simply making life hard for yourself so the new bike (named Alwoodley for reasons too complicated to explain but it is enough for you to know that it's glitzy) weighs next to nothing and has tyres as thin as bra straps. Excellent. And because it is such a sleek machine, I have done proper - yes proper - training, clocking up over 100k every week for the last month or so. Therefore all my body parts which usually take a massive pasting on the day are perfectly honed for the task in hand.

In previous years, my cycling partner has been the lovely Tim who has been happy to chat to me up hill and down dale for the five or so hours it takes for us to do the ride. He has tolerated me stopping to chat to all the marshals I know (that would be nearly all of them) and has joined in my bitter complaints about the bumpiness of Alwark Bridge which comes near the end when one's nether regions have already had enough. This year Tim was unable to ride so the singing dancing doctor, Philippa (the fastest woman on a bike in our village) and her very tall friend Clare agreed to take me under their wing instead. However there were to be no stops apart from lunch. Now this point I had to negotiate. Daughter number two was marshalling and there was no way I could cycle past (on the eve of her birthday) without stopping for a hug. Also my lovely tennis buddy who bravely does a marshalling post near the end and therefore has to sit there for hours deserves a brief pause in proceedings.

The eve of Bike Ride Day is always the big bake. Everyone on the Acorn Committee plus a few chums do a massive cake bake the day before because we give everyone a terrific tea when they get back. But there is usually some small (or big) hitch the day before which, because I live nearest the route, lands in my lap. So I have muffins, Cornish fairings and chocolate rock cakes on the go in the kitchen when the phone rings...

Last year, a lane on the early part of the route was flooded the day before and we thought we might have to change the route at the last minute involving me driving round to find alternatives on Bike Ride Eve. This year, a call had come in to say that part of the road through Boroughbridge (on our route) was undergoing road works and would be closed on the day. Of course, we go through all the procedures with the Police and the County Council to ensure that all the roads are clear and the necessary permissions have been granted. Also I have been riding the front and back end of the bike ride as training for the last month or so and no advance notices of road works have been in place. Hmmm...

Baking paused, I hop in the car and drive to the aforementioned spot and yes, there are a dozen or so workmen, numerous bits of machinery and three-way traffic lights. I parked up and found a helpful workman to talk to and he explained they were subcontractors and were not working the following day but another subcontractor would be on-site to surface dress the road involving complete closure for the whole of Saturday. He helpfully took me to the supervisor who was asleep in his van (it was lunchtime after all) and he promised to have someone from the main contractors phone me back.

Meanwhile, the formidable Louise, who is in charge of us all at Acorn, was taking another form of action and had contacted our signage friends, HACS who have close contacts with the County Council. Well, the man from the contractors never phoned but I tracked him down anyway and the long and the short of it was that the roadworks were postponed to the Sunday to allow our 650-plus cyclists through. Phew...

So back to the actual Bike Ride and once my pre-ride duties with our brilliant photographer Giles Rocholl had been completed, the foursome (singing dancing doctor, fast Philippa, very tall Clare and I) set off. My fears that I wouldn't be able to keep up were unfounded. Despite a brief stop and hug with daughter number 2, we arrived at the lunch stop at 10.15am, two hours from the start and nearly halfway! And we made it to the end with only one minor collision (note to self: don't stop suddenly, even at water stops), to be greeted by fast Philippa's husband - Il Presidente of the Cricket Club - and number 3 child at 1.15pm (on their way to cricket) which means that, discounting half an hour for lunch, two negotiated stops and the minor collision, we completed the route in 41/2 hours - my fastest ever!

Not only that, but, because apart from sore knees, some fatigue probably caused by staying out till 1.45am that night carousing, I think that if it ever stops raining I might go for a cycle later. Now that is a result.

Friday, 3 May 2013

'Mum of four seeks counselling to survive seventeen year old twins'. Imagine that in an agony aunt's column. Someone must have written it, surely?

Well here we are. The twins (numbers 3 and 4 for new readers) are seventeen today. Adorable, sociable, well-motivated (and that's just me!), they are a pleasure most of the time when they're not grunty, grumpy, unreasonable and gobby. And outside in the yard there is a gleaming, fully-airbagged, not-too-nippy car ready for them to learn to drive. Lucky them! I have felt the need to remind all my children that no such new car greeted my seventeenth birthday morning and even though they are sharing, they are very fortunate!

I do, however, remember the other two reaching their seventeenth birthdays and, more particularly, the process of them learning to drive. Number 1, who was just about to enter her 'wild child' phase, was exceptionally challenging because, in order to hear what I (in the passenger seat, gripping door handle with one hand and the hand brake with the other) was saying, she had to take her eyes off the road to lipread - unless I shouted, which I did, a lot. On the morning of her test, she drove to school with me in the front and her three siblings in the back and managed to lodge the car on the stone gatepost of the school. Through gritted teeth, I told all of them politely to get out of the car whilst I managed to reverse the vehicle off the aforementioned gatepost in front of a crowd of students, teachers and parents. Later in the day, number 1 texted me to say that she had passed her test. Words failed me...

Then number 2, always in a hurry with life (she has unfortunately inherited my impatient streak) always drove too fast, was determined to pass her test first time like her sister and turned into our lane far too quickly with me (gripping on both sides as per usual) shouting to her to slow down. We nearly made it round the bend ... but not quite. She went on to pass her test first time as well.

So, imagine my utter delight when our dear Irish friend in the village announced that he had enjoyed teaching his two daughters to drive and he would happily take the twins out practising. My gratitude to Declan O'Kidney knows no bounds! And number 4's godmother has also offered and she can remember what the first two were like so she is probably aware of the terror in store.

There is, of course, the possibility that I am just rubbish at being their co-pilot/driving instructor (although getting two through their tests first time may suggest this is not the case...) but I am more than relieved that I probably won't have to do too much of the white-knuckle stuff this time.

So, if you are out and about on the roads of North Yorkshire and you see a rather smart (currently), black Kia with L-plates: dive in the hedge, park up off the road and breathe deeply whilst thinking sympathetically about the adult in the passenger seat with nerves of steel.

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About Me

Thanks for popping up in my world. So you know you've got the right one, I am the one who works as a freelance marketing consultant in sunny North Yorkshire. I work for SMEs who are smart enough to know that they need some marketing help but not big enough to employ some hot shot marketing graduate who thinks they know it all... When I'm not working, I am likely to be doing the following:

looking after my long-suffering husband and 4 fabulous children though sadly this is only on an occasion basis as they have nearly flown the coop, domestic duties (less said about that the better though my headstone may read: Laundry is my Life), fundraising for Acorn (www.acorncharity.org.uk) for the last sixteen years, playing tennis, watching rugby, learning to play terrible golf (no discernible progress made yet), going to the gym - not enough, running - ditto!, writing my blogs - www.askabusywoman.blogspot.co.uk and trying to find an agent who would like to read my debut novel. Welcome to my world!